


in this dress

by cabinbythesea



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Harry, Boys Kissing, Comeplay, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Drug Use, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Louis Tomlinson Calls Harry Styles Pet Names, Love Bites, M/M, Making Out, Marijuana, Pet Names, Protective Louis Tomlinson, Teasing, Top Louis Tomlinson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 05:01:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21221000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabinbythesea/pseuds/cabinbythesea
Summary: Louis is so lost in his eyes and his words he feels if a step above heaven exists, it has to be Harry.(Loosely inspired by Harry’s dress from the director’s cut of Lights Up).





	in this dress

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: a work of ~fiction~
> 
> WARNING --> slight mention of psychedelics
> 
> basically harry in that dress KILLED me okay fuck hope you like :)

For starters, Harry is wearing a fucking  _ dress _ .

Sure, he has seen him in said wear before, but this is  _ lace _ . And sure, maybe it’s the alcohol fogging the filters to his brain, but he cannot keep his eyes off him.

To make matters even  _ worse _ , Harry knows Louis is watching him. Everytime someone new comes up to greet him he’ll glance at Louis. Anytime one of their friends dances with him he lets his head fall back to watch Louis through hooded lids. 

It is all very infuriating in the best way imaginable. Even though everyone else’s attention is on him, Harry disregards them, having more interest in Louis’ fixed gaze.

It only takes a simple wink and a summoning head nod for Harry to disperse from the guy he was dancing with. Louis watches him walk over; all long legs and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. He’s shoeless, Louis notices as Harry sits his bum on the arm of the couch and extends his legs along Louis’ own lap, crossing at the ankles.

“Are you fucked?” Louis grins at him and wraps his hand around Harry’s bare ankle, circling the bone there.

Harry tilts his head at him, considering. He looks the epitome of innocence with his hands twiddling in his lap and light blush adorning his cheeks, but Louis knows better.

He shrugs, “Coming down, though.”

“Tabs?”

Harry purses his lips, singsonging a, “Mayyyybeee.”

Louis scrunches his nose and goes back to drawing shapes into the thin skin of his ankle. He pinches over the ink there and Harry hisses, nudging his knee against Louis’ chest on instinct. He goes to put his leg back straight, but Louis leaves it there, taking his other arm to rest on Harry’s thigh, hand on his knobby knee.

Harry seems to tilt his head at him again. “Anyone could literally see my junk right now.”

Louis digs his thumb into his knee. “Why’s that? Are you not wearing any pants?” he jokes.

Harry doesn’t answer, so Louis looks up. He is looking around the room aimlessly, pointedly avoiding Louis’ gaze.

“Jesus, H.” He quickly situates Harry’s leg so his thighs are pressed together. 

Harry presses his fingers to the back of Louis’ neck. He’s sensitive there and Harry knows it. “I might be kidding.”

“ _ Might  _ be?” Harry is not one to be shy when it comes to his body, if the dress was any indication, so Louis should not be all that surprised if he were to be starkers right now.

He shrugs and Louis sees it when his eyes switch to a darker shade of green.

He slips his fingertips beneath the fabric of the dress, just touching meaty thigh. He looks to Harry for permission and gets it with a short nod. He travels up, waiting to reach fabric, but silently hoping for skin. He continues all the way to Harry’s hip, only reaching the bare, pudgy softness there.

“ _ Harry _ .” He brings his hand back down to his thigh.

“What?” Harry bites his lip. “You can cover it for me.”

Louis raises his brows at him, incredulous. “Someone’s in a mood.”

Harry grins in response, leaning down to press a wet kiss to Louis’ cheek. “Getting a drink. Want a jack?” He struggles to get up without flashing the entire room. Eyes are on him as it is, so Louis levels him with a hand around his wrist.

“Nah - wait! Are you coming to mine?”

Harry tries to hide his tinted cheeks, but Louis sees. “Maybe, maybe not.”

He rolls his eyes and uncrosses his leg. Harry watches his every move and it still sends a fuzziness through his veins. He stands and presses a hand to Harry’s lower back, the dress pressing closer against his skin. “Take us to the drinks, then.”

“Thought you didn’t want anything.”

Harry leads them anyway, through a wide hallway until they reach a mini bar (more than likely just one of the many in the house). It’s adequately stocked, and Louis whistles at the Armand de Brignac. “Changed my mind.”

Harry hums, “Pour me some,” and leans his hip against the bar. Louis feels eyes on him as he pours and it is enough to cause him to peak up to smirk at him. He takes the glass from Louis’ hand and takes a tasteful sip, his eyes not leaving Louis’.

“Good?” Louis takes a sip of his own.

He shrugs. “Nothing we haven’t had before.”

Louis scoffs and steps closer to touch his knee to Harry’s. “Don’t get all bitchy, now.”

He hoped Harry would let out a laugh at that. He was right, so right that Harry dribbles some drink down his chin. “Did you just say  _ bitchy _ ?”

Louis winks and clinks their glasses, taking another swig. “Maybe,” he teases.

Harry shakes his head at him, a grin threatening at the corners. He begins to fiddle with Louis’ shirt. “I think you need me to go back with you.” He tilts his head up surely, sultry. Harry is naturally sweet, but easily seductive.

“Oh, I  _ need  _ you to, do I?”

“Yup,” he pops the ‘p’, “you’ll end up calling me, anyway, drunk off your ass.”

Louis would typically fight back a lot harder, but he doesn’t fancy staying here much longer. As much as he loves seeing Harry in a dress, he thinks he loves him without even more. “Don’t act as if you wouldn’t call me first, darling.”

Harry shrugs, nonchalant despite the leg he presses harder into Louis’ own. “Not tonight, necessarily,” he purposely locks their eyes. “Xander’s here, you know.”

He almost smirks at Harry’s attempts at upsetting him, but decides to play along. “Now,” he sets his drink down to lean into Harry, capturing him in by his arms on either side of the bar counter, “why would I know that Xander’s here?”

Harry falters a bit at the sudden proximity, but stands his ground. Louis feels an unwarranted sense of pride spurt in his belly. “Because he watches me.”

“He can watch you all he wants.” Louis gets close enough for their cheeks to touch when he reaches Harry’s ear. He hovers, hears it when Harry sucks in a breath.

Harry, bless him, does not let up. “Fine. I’ll bring him home and have him  _ watch me  _ all night, then.” He gives Louis a leveled look, before sliding beneath his arm and away down the hall.

He ignores it when Louis yells after him, “He won’t  _ touch _ , though!”

“Who are ya talking to, mate?”

_ Of course  _ Niall finds him at that point, yelling after Harry like he always seems to.

“Who do you bloody think?” He takes another shot and leans his bum against the bar. He doesn’t even flinch at the burn.

Niall laughs at his expense, as if Louis’ life is some kind of  _ joke _ . “Ya know he never goes far, though.”

Louis scoffs. “Not far enough, more like.”

“Shut up,” Niall bumps their shoulders and Louis just now notices how many people are actually here. He has not an inkling as to whose home this is, even. “You two were fuckin’ created for each other.” Harry texted him an address all but two hours ago, so here he is now. Harry comes calling, Louis goes answering.

He scrunches his nose. “Unfortunately.”

Before Niall can reply, his phone vibrates uncontrollably in his pocket, signalling a call. Louis already knows who it is without looking at the ID.

“How may I help you, darling?” Louis sighs dramatically and glances at Niall, who rolls his eyes, mouths  _ Good luck,  _ and walks off.

“I can’t get this fucking blunt rolled,” he groans, clearly frustrated. There is noise in the background, but that doesn’t tell him much with how big this fucking house is.

“Want me to find Xander for you?”

“Fuck  _ off _ ,” Harry grits out and Louis knows he’s talking to him  _ and _ the seemingly undefeatable weed.

He has to bite down a smile so people don’t look at him like a mad man. “Well, where are you?”

“Use my location, dicktwit,” and he promptly hangs up.

Louis finds him on the third floor balcony by himself.

He is hunched over a tiny table, too big fingers scratching at the brown paper. Louis also notes that it isn’t Harry’s signature pink rolls, so he must have gotten it from someone else. He plasters himself to Harry’s back. Harry does not budge, just continues to huff and puff. Louis turns his cheek against Harry’s bare shoulder where the dress has slipped down and feels his goosebumps.

“What the fuck is a dickwit?” he asks.

“You.”

Louis chooses to ignore his answer. “You’ve got goosies.” He lets his arms snake around Harry’s middle.

With one final huff of vanquish, Harry leans his body weight back into Louis’ and lets his head rest on Louis’ shoulder to look back at. He looks cold more than anything. From Louis’ vast knowledge of Harry, he does doesn't even appear drunk, tipsy if anything.

“Will you do it for me?” Harry glances at his lips and Louis hates that he knows exactly what Harry’s hair smells like, even if he weren’t so close to it.

He opts for kissing his shoulder, not breaking eye contact. “You know I will.”

Harry hums then, closing his eyes and turning his head towards the night. “Don’t wanna go in, yet,” he answers Louis’ unspoken concern. “Not cold with you.”

Louis would usually reflect that by pointing out his obviously raised skin, but knows better than that in the moment.

He moves his hands to the tips of Harry’s fingers that hang loose at his sides. He traces the skin up until the dress sleeves begin, just above his wrists. He encircles his hands there and nudges his knees behind Harry’s, causing them to buckle a bit, but just to direct him to the way of the swinging bench to their right. 

Harry stands in front of it, waiting for Louis to sit first. Once he does, Louis watches unabashedly as he hikes his dress up a bit. Therefore, allowing him to place one leg after the other besides Louis’ own, bracketing his thighs.

Not forgetting about the no underwear situation, he pulls it down just enough to cover where he needs to most. “You want-”

“Here,” Harry pats his left thigh, thick and bare. “Don’t need a table. You’re my expert, no?”

Louis blinks at him. “You want all this residue on you?”

He shrugs. “Just brush it off.”

“Gonna get weed on your fucking bits. Literally.”

Harry giggles a bit at that. “Don’t care. Now, c’mon.”

Louis pinches his thigh in retort before setting the paper down and packing it. He rolls it tight the first try, but redoes it to take his time to caressing Harry’s skin. “There,” he brushes off the excess, “happy?”

He dimples. “Very. Now you can smoke it with me.”

“Well, duh,” Louis leaves a hand on his thigh and places the joint between his lips.

“Just taking the first hit from me, are you?” Harry places a hand on the back of Louis’ neck to steady himself, anyway, flicking the lighter to light.

“Mm,” Louis inhales. “Not taking anything from you, don’t pretend like this is your weed.” He feels Harry’s eyes on his neck when he exhales to the sky. 

His face changes when Louis looks back at him, grumbling, “Well, it sure as fuck isn’t  _ yours _ .”

Louis’ smile is closed mouth. Harry inhales fast and deep, and Louis’ only had one hit, but watching Harry suck on a blunt has always been otherworldly. His brow furrows in concentration, and then he’s blowing smoke straight into Louis’ face.

He pinches Harry’s bum and it only brings him closer. “I can’t believe your dick is just staring at me right now.” Louis leans back to prove his point, getting a better look.

He laughs and places the joint between Louis’ awaiting lips. “I believe it. It likes you.”

Louis chuckles on an exhale. “Does he?”

Harry looks genuinely offended when he says, “My dick is a she, Louis. Don’t be fucking rude.”

Louis isn’t even surprised at this point. “Right, of course,” he leans down to speak beneath Harry’s dress, “I’m sorry, miss.”

Harry brings him back up by the hair, “That’s  _ ma’am  _ to you,” and they finish off the blunt with cold feet and warm minds.

It does not take long for Harry to lean into him. Their bodies become folded together waist up on the swing, Harry’s tucked legs behind Louis’ back and Louis’ face breathing into the sweet scent of Harry’s neck.

“Where did your shoes go?” Louis finally asks.

Harry tries to shrug, but it’s more of a twitch with how tightly they hold each other. “Don’t know. Think Niall was with me, though. Have you seen him?"

“Yeah, actually. Was talking to him when you called.”

“And he didn’t say anything about my shoes?”

“Afraid not."

“‘S shame.” He does not sound very shameful, though.

“All he said was that he wishes you wore fucking pants.”

“Fuck off,” he laughs. “Was doing you a favor.”

“A  _ favor _ ?!” Louis manages to pull his heavy head away from Harry’s warm neck. “If we were home alone, maybe. That would make more sense.”

“I make perfect sense,” Harry argues, flicking Louis’ nostril.

“Ow. Also, stop being a brat.”

“I’m  _ pleasant _ .” Harry presses his nose into the side of Louis’ cheek and it’s freezing.

“Can we go inside yet?”

“No.”

Louis groans and throws his head back against the bench, staring up. Harry does not let him go far, though, placing his cheek against the expanse of Louis’ neck. “Whose house is this?”

“Why are you asking so many questions?”

Louis pulls him closer by the bum, even slides his hands beneath the dress for warmth. Harry shivers at the sudden cold contact. “Because I want many answers.”

He rolls his eyes. “Alessandro’s.”

“And where did you get the weed?”

“Niall’s friend.” At least now Louis knows it’s probably safe. “Not bad, right?”

“Not bad,” he agrees.,“just surprised you aren’t hard yet.”

Harry clicks his tongue, but his tone shares a shed of some agreeance. “I’m not  _ totally _ uncontrollable, you know.”

“I think we can both agree that you are.”

Harry shifts his head back to bring their noses together, face to face. “I’m only not hard because of how cold it is right now.”

Louis’ lips tug up and he presses his mouth to Harry’s top lip. “Why are we still out here, then, hm?”

Harry sighs, so Louis squeezes his bum. “My dick will literally poke through this dress like a fucking flagpole hard.”

Louis gawks at that, pressing his chuckles into Harry’s cheek. His reaction only makes Harry laugh too, cradling Louis’ head at the neck and pressing his face into his hair.

“Can make a quick exit. Could attach myself to your front so no one sees.”

“ _ Or _ ,” Harry propositions while dropping a light kiss beneath Louis’ eye, “we can find a room in this ridiculous house and dilute the problem ourselves.”

Louis gives him a proud look, hoping he’d say something along those lines. “Don’t know if we’d  _ dilute  _ the problem very well, though.” Harry frowns at him, but Louis does not stop there, loves to watch Harry react. “Know you need fucked, and unless you have any lube hiding in that pretty dress of yours . . . .” he fades off with a shrug.

He watches Harry bite his lip. “Do need fucked.  _ Really  _ deep and hard, you know?”

“Jesus,” Louis grips his ass tighter. Harry pauses suddenly, before leaning back to pat at Louis’ pockets. Louis laughs a bit. “I don’t have any lube, babe. Wouldn’t lie to ya.”

“I know. Where’s your phone?”

He scrunches his face up in confusion, but lifts his bum off the bench, taking Harry with him. After a surprised yelp, Harry gets the memo, and reaches behind Louis to grab it from his back pocket. “What are you doing?”

“Calling Xander.”

“Calling Xand-  _ oh _ .” Harry gives him a mischievous look before unlocking his phone, scrolling through his contacts. “Where’s  _ your  _ phone, then?”

“Don’t know nor care at the moment.” Louis kneads at Harry’s thighs to warm him up. Harry makes a pleases sound. “Huh, surprised you have his number saved.”

“Do I?” He leans over to look at the screen, pressing their foreheads together in the process. “You must have put it in there, you’re the one who wants to suck his cock.”

“I do  _ not _ .” Harry blushes a bit, though, and presses call.

Louis hears when Xander picks up with, “ _ Louis Tomlinson? No way, _ ” which Harry just finds to be absolutely hilarious whereas Louis rolls his eyes in disgust.

“No, actually. It’s me,” Harry replies. He looks at Louis with an infuriating twinkle in his eye while Louis fake gags.

“ _ What can I do for you, Sue? _ ”

Louis makes a wringing neck motion.

Harry has to use his free hand to cover Louis’ face so he doesn't laugh at him. “Do you have any lube on you by chance?”

“ _ Lube? Mm, are you finally coming around to your senses, babe? _ ”

Louis cannot take it anymore. “Is he fucking  _ joking _ ?” He bites at Harry’s palm pressed against his mouth. “Fookin’ prick thinks he can just-”

Harry pulls the phone away from them, covering the speaker. “Would you just shut the fuck up for two seconds? Do you wanna fuck or not?”

Louis pouts and distracts himself by wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist, laying his head on his chest as Harry works his magic.

“Yunno, that does sound lovely, Xan, but I’m in quite the predicament.” Louis can hear the exaggerated pout in his voice. “Are you willing to help a pal out?” Harry rests his chin a top Louis’ head, fingers combing through the strands at his nape. Louis absolutely mewls.

_ “If you need fucked, I can help you with that, baby. Where are you? _ ” 

Louis digs his nails into Harry’s skin, but stays mute.

“No, actually, uh,” he stutters, looking around the patio, before settling on, “Lou got his hand stuck in a bench outside.” Louis holds back is laugh by biting at the fabric of Harry’s dress that covers his chest.

_ “A  _ bench?  _ What the fuck, Tomlinson.” _

“Hey, now,” Harry defends, “he’s had a little too much to drink, is all.”

“Christ,” Louis mutters and gets a slap in return.

“So, I know you have some. Can you bring it to the third floor balcony? Please.”

_ “Fine . . . as long as you promise to give me something in return and-” _

“Awesome! Thanks! I’ll be waiting at the door, bye!” He hangs up quickly and struggles out of Louis’ lap. “There, all set. Now you stay here so he actually thinks you’re stuck and I’ll meet him by the door so he doesn’t see a thing.”

“Okay . . . but we aren’t fucking out here, and nothing you say or do can change that.”

“We’ll find a room, but I think we both know that last part isn’t true,” Harry winks and goes to peek through the door to wait.

He obtains the lube, but not without a few lines from Xander and more than a few curses from Louis and his stuck hand. 

“What kind of tosser gets his hand stuck in a  _ bench _ ?”

“Who’re you callin’ a tosser,  _ mate _ ? Because I know it isn’t me.”

“C’mon, Harry. Let’s go put this lube to better use.”

“Do you ever shut the fook up? Or do you genuinely  _ try  _ to be this bloody annoying all the time?”

Harry, bless him, ushers Xander away with some excuse about Louis  _ just being embarrassed  _ and how Harry will  _ catch up with him another night. _

_Psh_, over Louis’ dead body will Harry ‘catch up’ with him another night. “He’s such a fucking prick, isn’t he?” Louis stands now that Xander left, stretching his back. 

“Oh, absolutely,” Harry agrees easily, “but that prick just saved our asses.”

Louis stalks his way over to him. “Just your ass, really. Think mine would have stayed quite content.”

Harry rolls his eyes and takes Louis’ hand, effectively dragging him inside . He shivers at the sudden temperature change, but is thankful for it nonetheless. They make their way through different hallways, Harry jiggling doorknob after doorknob, but none letting up. “What the hell, Alessandro?”

Louis chuckles lightheartedly and fixes himself behind Harry. He digs his teeth into his shoulder and fits his hands in the dips of his hips. “Why don’t we just go home?” 

Harry seems to consider it for a moment, distracted by Louis’ teeth on his neck, but he ultimately shakes his head. “No. We’ll find something.”

Louis groans, but goes along with him anyway because that is what Louis does best these days; follows Harry. “Wouldn’t you rather be in my nice, warm bed?”

Harry stalls then, turning to press the heel of his palm into Louis’ crotch. He can’t help but shift against him and release a moan at Harry’s mouth this close to him. “Don’t think you’ll make it home now, will ya?”

“Minx,” Louis snarls, and nudges Harry away (for now) to get back to the task at hand. “Bathroom, then? Broom closet? It is almost Halloween, could be kinda fun . . . spooky and shit, yanno?”

“Jesus,” Harry laughs, coming to a stop at the end of a hallway. “Say a prayer,” he says before turning the knob and, miraculously, swings open the door.

“Fuckin’ get in!” Louis cheers. The bathroom is large enough to host its own party, but any thoughts of partying are pushed out the window as soon as Harry hops up onto the countertop, right between the double sinks.

“Did you lock it?”

“. . . Yes.” He does not break eye contact with Harry and slowly reaches his hand back to turn the lock.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Unbelievable. Where would you be without me?”

“Dead, probably,” Louis agrees and makes his way over to him. He presses his palms flat into the meat of Harry’s thighs - one of his  _ many  _ favorite parts of Harry - and watches as he beautifully spreads his legs for him. Louis can see right up the dress again and his fingertips are barely touching the material.

“Do you like it?” He looks sheepish.

Louis hums and tucks his fingers beneath the fabric, pressing all the way up until he reaches the swell of Harry’s hips. “You know I do.” The movement causes the dress to ruck up a bit, the tip of Harry’s cock poking out the bottom. “Look at that,” he awes.

Harry makes a sound low in his throat from the cold air hitting him. He finally moves his hands to around Louis’ shoulders, finally bringing their bodies flush. “Gonna fuck me in my pretty dress?”

“God,” Louis swears, bunching the fabric up so that Harry’s cock can finally spring free, hard and pink against the white lace of the dress. “Yeah. Need filled, don’t you?” He reaches a dry finger down to tease against Harry’s rim, ignoring his angry cock completely.

Harry bites down on his shoulder, but tries to get Louis’ finger in him, anyway. “Want it so bad . . . would have let you dry.”

Louis huffs a slight laugh at that. “Is that right? That desperate for cock or that desperate for  _ my  _ cock?”

“Mm, only your cock.” He reaches down to press into the fabric of Louis’ jeans. “By some miracle, you know exactly what to do with it.”

“Such a way with words.” Louis leans into Harry’s hand, all the while leaning behind him to grab the lube from its place on the counter. Harry’s mouth drops open beautifully at the click of the bottle that Louis just has to kiss him, wet and slow, as he slicks up his middle finger and circles it around his rim. When he finally pushes in, Harry lets out a content sigh. “My fingers make you sigh, baby?”

Harry’s eyes are dark-rimmed and lovely looking into Louis’. “Will make me do more than sigh if you try hard enough.”

He kisses the corner of Harry’s mouth, then inserts a second digit. “Oh, yes. That’s real pretty, H.” Harry, like he can’t help himself, begins to circle his hips on Louis’ hand, creating a rhythm.

When he gets a third finger, he becomes restless. Head thrown back and eyes hooded, he squirms every time Louis slightly rubs against his prostate. “Enough. It’s enough.”

“But I like watching you just like  _ this _ ,” he complains, curling his fingers just  _ so  _ and fawns over the bead that spurts from Harry’s swollen cock.

Harry blows a piece of hair out of his eyes, already breathless. “If you rather feel me around your fingers than your cock, that’s your own problem.”

Louis chuckles and feels pride well in his chest and it is absolutely  _ ridiculous  _ because all Harry’s done is make a  _ joke.  _ Yet, Louis kisses him soft  _ anyway _ , his heart leaps when Harry grins against his own  _ anyway _ , he pulls back just for Harry to pull him in harder with more intent  _ anyway _ .

“Think my previous statement, although true, is not right for this moment.” Louis nudges their noses together, so close that he almost misses it when Harry smiles.

“Just admit that you wanna stick it in, and we can get on with it.”

Louis guffaws, exaggerated. He takes his fingers out of Harry’s ass (romantic, he knows) to dig into his sides. Harry collapses in on himself, trying to push Louis away but pull him in all the same. “‘ _ Stick it in _ ,’ please. You’re so bloody annoying.”

He finally stops his jabbing when Harry looks at him with sparkly, dark eyes. “You won’t be saying that once you  _ stick it in _ .”

Louis shakes his head, but lets Harry undo his button and zipper. He shakes his head, but lets Harry jerk him as if he was not already fully hard. Louis shakes his head, but stumbles when Harry wraps a leg around him. He shakes his head, but has to dig his teeth into Harry’s shoulder to hide his moan when Harry presses his thumb into his slit.

“Don’t think I’m wet enough,” Louis poorly jokes.

Harry still laughs anyway, “Would suck you, but,” he takes the hand off Louis’ dick up to his own mouth, licking the precome up, “don’t think you need it.”

“ _ Fuck. _ ” He kisses into Harry’s mouth, tasting himself. “Always need it.”

Harry pecks him sweetly like he knows his pain. “No time.” Louis frowns, and Harry uses his thumbs to tug at the corners of his lips. “Don’t pout, yet. Gonna give you the best orgasm of your life in a second, here.”

Harry pulls his dress up so it pools deliciously across his hips, legs spread just enough for Louis to tuck into. “Only a second? I’d like to think I’ve built a tolerance for you by this point. Condom?”

“Sorry to break it to you, Lou, but you haven’t . . . and what the fuck kind of question is that?”

He’s right on all of the above.  _ As if _ he is anything but easy for Harry.  _ As if _ there has been anyone else. “Sorry, baby. Dumb question.” He aligns himself with Harry’s hole. “Want it like this?”

Harry hums in agreement, licks his lips. “Please. Want it so hard my ass lifts off this counter.”

Louis groans when he finally pushes in, he has his head resting on Harry’s shoulder, looking down as he watches himself go in and out, slow and deep. “So warm inside, beautiful. Can’t believe . . . .” he trails off.

“Yeah,” Harry sounds just as far off, gripping tight at Louis’ shoulders. “Fuck, Lou. Take your shirt off.” Louis does so quickly, allowing Harry to press their bodies flush together. “Perfect. Feels  _ perfect _ .”

“Getting so wet, baby  _ look  _ at you,  _ godammit _ .” He touches Harry’s cockhead, but only for a moment.

Harry whines uncontrollably, feeling too good to help himself. “You do this to me. You do, I -”

“Shh,” Louis shushes him with a kiss, his swollen lips feeling ripe against Louis’ own. “I know. Makes me so hard, Haz . . . unbelievable. You literally came up with an entire fucking scheme just to get lube so we could fuck . . . my brilliant boy.”

“Harder,” Harry breathes out, rolling his head onto Louis’ shoulder. Louis doesn’t let him down, either. His thrusts become quick and thorough, breathless and sweaty. “ _ Fuck,  _ ‘m so full.” Harry is barely on the counter, basically sitting on Louis’ dick as he buries into him.

“Gonna make you even more full,” he grunts.

Harry leans his body back a bit so the top of his back rests against the bathroom mirror. This lets Louis bend over more to fuck into him deeper. Louis rests his forehead on Harry’s chest, breath ragged and hair sweaty, but Harry sinks his fingers into the strands anyway.

“Fuck me so good, don’t you?”

Louis lets out a pathetic whine. “Do anything for you.”

He feels Harry bend his body to speak into Louis’ hair. “Take care of me so much. My person.”

“ _ God _ .” Louis feels so good right now he could cry any second. “I love you.”

Harry kisses his ear. “Know you do. I love you so much, treat me so well. The very best part of me.”

Louis takes a deep breath, before looking up to Harry, bringing their mouths together in a searing kiss. “Wanna make you come so good . . . everything to me.”

“God,  _ yes _ . I’ll come as soon as I feel you, won’t be able to help myself.”

Louis grips his ass. “That’s so hot, baby,  _ fuck _ .”

“Do it, Lou.” Harry grabs him by the cheeks to tilt his head up, pressing their foreheads together. “Come in me. Will make me come so hard.”

Louis is so lost in his eyes and his words he feels if a step above heaven exists, it has to be Harry.

“Gonna come all over your pretty lace dress when I come inside you, yeah?” He says it against Harry’s mouth, sharing the oxygen their lungs can barely reach.

Harry keeps nodding against Louis’ own, eyes far away in the best way. “Could come right now. Holding back.”

“So good for me, my beautiful Harry.”

“ _ Fucking  _ shit. Please come, Lou. Need to see your face, please. I love you, I love you, I love you - Oh, my god,” and then Louis’ releasing into Harry, and just . . . doesn’t really stop. He comes so much that he is still dumping into Harry’s heat when Harry comes himself, all over the white lace and Louis’ stomach. “Oh, god . . .  _ Louis _ .”

“Baby,” is all Louis can say, still feeling a few drops spill out of him into Harry.

Harry is holding Louis’ head up still, coming down from his own orgasm.

“You just - oh, god that’s so fucking hot.” He looks down to see some dripping down his thighs, even with Louis still in him.

Louis finally looks down to see for himself and is not even that surprised. “I -”

“You have definitely never came that much,” he removes some sweaty strands of hair from Louis’ forehead. “Not with me, at least.”

Louis grins, sedated, and licks at Harry’s sweat-salty neck. “Never have.” He dips his fingers into Harry’s come that adorns his dress. “It was this damn dress.”

Harry squawks a laugh. “ _ Really _ ?”

“Most definitely.”

“Will have to keep that in mind.”

“Liked it, did ya?”

“Seeing as you’re still inside me? I’d say so, yes.”

Louis sucks a bruise into his neck before pulling out, Harry shivering at the loss of contact. Louis helps clean him up with the disposable towels in the bathroom and tries to keep his hands away from him in the process, but fails miserably. He cannot help himself if he needs to kiss Harry every time his cheeks dimple (which is quite often).

“Stop that,” Harry shies away, “we need to go back down there eventually, you know.”

“Don’t see how that’s gonna work.” Louis motions to Harry’s come stained attire.

“Well, not in this dress.” He pauses, before hopping down from the counter on wobbly legs. Louis steadies him by the hips. “Gonna have a gander through one of Alessandro’s closets. I’m sure I can find another for the rest of the night.”

Louis drops his head back to stare at the ceiling and whisper a prayer. “God, help me.”

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: hltwink


End file.
